Four:

The terror of the REM mosh. It was Kate's favourite band ever in the history of everness, so we were determined to be down the front. I'd once fallen in a mosh and had nearly died in the resultant suffocation, so I was a little wary of these things, but what could possibly go wrong at Glastonbury... *cough*

The REM mosh in front of Friday night's Pyramid Stage was the single most moshiest mosh I've ever had the misfortunate to be trapped in. Thoughts of Hillsborough flooded right back, as Georgia's finest (excepting our own Georgia of course) took to the stage. I was holding Kate's Amnesty Peace flag, because it was too crushed in there to hand it back to her; she was holding a bottle of water to her breast, which she could neither drink from nor return to her bag. There was barely room to breathe out, let alone anything else. Then the bastards went and played, 'The One I Love...'

The mosh was pushed to the left by those on the outskirts surging in, then to the right by those counter-surging. In the resulting swaying, I was knocked straight off my feet and went down. I remember thinking, 'Oh! God! Not again!', but after that, there is no memory of being down there. Kate told me that I was down for two/four minutes and no-one around me could avoid trampling on me; even she had to step on me once. No-one could reach me and Kate said that that is now her most terrible m emory, realizing it was me down there and knowing that not only was it beyond her power to save me, but it was also beyond it not to hurt me.

The next song was slower and they were able to make room enough to get me up. I have a flash memory of seeing brilliant lights and Kate in silouette, while hands reached for me and someone had me from behind. Then nothing. I have another memory of standing behind Kate, with my arms tight around her waist, and my hands holding hers so hard that I'm amazed I didn't break them, while a lad held his water bottle at my mouth and I drank like it was going out of fashion. Then it was another song and Kate saying that we were getting out. I remember lifting her, determined that I was not going to leave her in this Hell alone. I have a flash of her starting to crowd surf. Then another flash of me alone and the crush unbelievable around me. Then nothing again. My final flash of memory doesn't make sense. It was of the space between me and the barrier suddenly doing the Moses and the Red Sea thing, and the security guard reaching for me. He had a pale blue 'Stop Esso' t-shirt (which none of them had in reality). I reached for him, but there was a gulf between his hand and mine. I looked at a bloke next to me and burst into tears, 'Please get me out of here!'

My next memory continued on, no more flashes of scenes. I was in the medical room, just to the side of the Pyramid Stage. From the questioning, I think I must have told them more about the previous mosh as I'd gone down in, than the one I'd just experienced, as they certainly seemed to know a lot about it. I'd drunk at least one pint of water and I'd only just stopped asking for Kate. Someone came in bleeding and I looked at them, as the emergency people rushed over. I remember thinking that that dude's need was far greater than rehydrating a hippy like me. A young ambulance woman hovered over me asking questions and I could see the notes she'd made so far. I'm a First Aider and I knew the right things to say to get me back out there and not into a hospital in Bath, so I did.

It was the right decision. The rest of the REM set was brilliant, from the vantage point of the left-hand side. Despite the thousands of people, I'd stepped through the enclosure door and asked Elen of the Ways to find Kate for me. I found her immediately a few rows back and about thirty people in. She had waited for me for about ten minutes, but then gone to stand where she could see REM playing. I had no lasting damage, just some bruises which'll sod off eventually.

   Five:

Belgian Waffles with butterscotch and cream. No more description necessary methinks.

  Six:

Tony Benn's speech in the Left Field. Hundreds of us packed into the Leftfield Marquee having listened to the venerable gentleman talk about the War in Iraq, then someone stood up from the audience and asked him to form a political party, separate to Labour. Before he could reply, the entire Marquee went yampy with its cheering and clapping, making it quite obvious that we would all vote for him. It took ages for order to be restored and then that long, pregnant pause as everyone wondered what Tony Benn could say to that. It felt like history in the making.